


Floriography

by Muze



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Elain is So Done, F/M, Faerie folk are dangerous, Ficlets, Floriography, How Do I Tag, I haven't planned this through, I'm Bad At Titles, Kind of AU, Language of Flowers, Lucien is a snarky sassqueen, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, One Shot, Romance, a way too literal floriographic interpretation, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muze/pseuds/Muze
Summary: 3 part Elucien series. Each chapter adressing the meaning of one of the flowers Feyre painted in their house.Part 1: "They call it folk's gloves. Do you know why? It’s said to be a flower that was smuggled out of the faery lands by some humans who wanted to share its beauty and benefits with the world. But the faeries were angry with the humans for stealing it. So they cursed their beloved plant. Don't cut or pluck one of the flowers, it would offend the faery folk. Elain, love, admire the flowers but don’t touch them."She should’ve paid attention to the circle of mushrooms she entered. She should’ve paid attention to the tales. She should’ve wondered how, while all the grass had turned brown, the grass in the ring was still a vibrant green. She didn’t.'You killed something of ours. A life for a life. Do you happen to have any babies I can snatch and swap for changelings?'‘You can’t be serious. '





	1. Foxglove

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 3 part Elucien series. Each chapter adressing the meaning of one of the flowers Feyre painted in their house: foxglove, violet and roses.  
> The ficlets are unrelated and can contain other characters and ACOTAR plotpoints
> 
> I got a bit carried away with chapter I, so I split that in two parts.  
> Since I should be studying for my exams in January, and I'm in need of a distraction I'll try to post all ~~three~~ four chapters before the New Year has arrived. 
> 
> Ratings might be adjusted as well. I'll just roll with whatever pops up in my mind.
> 
> Source used for this chapter:  
> http://www.livingartsoriginals.com/flower-foxglove.html

> And in their courses make that round  
>  In meadows and in marshes found,  
>  Of them so called the Fairy Ground,  
>  Of which they have the keeping
> 
> -Michael Drayton
> 
>  
> 
>  

* * *

* * *

 

 

Sometimes you had to do the brave thing and bravery would follow, right?  
If this was a time to follow your gut instead of your bravery Elain was about to be very, _very_ , sorry.

  
Feyre was out hunting again. She hadn’t caught a thing in weeks. They had tried to make do with what they could get their hands on, which luckily wasn't that hard at the moment.  
It was harvest season so they used the berries, wheats and pumpkin that grew in Elain’s very limited garden. It was enough for the three young girls but not for her father whose health had been frail ever since some debtors crushed his leg years ago.  
  
He’d gone out in the rain last week to sell some of his woodcarvings. His cough was horrible but it was his irregular heartbeat that scared her. She knew that foxglove could help him but they didn’t grow it. She had to be careful when preparing it though, they didn’t call it dead man's bells for nothing. She knew she’d seen it somewhere in the forest a while back. She threw her threadbare cloak around herself and left. It couldn’t be that long of a walk after all, so there was no need to disrupt Nesta's reading.

•••••••••

> _‘Gwanny, pwetty flowah!’ A young Elain cried while pointing at a drawing in her herbology book._  
>  _‘And do you know the name of that flower, sweetheart?’_  
>  _Elain shook her head._  
>  _‘They call it folk's gloves. Do you know why? It’s said to be a flower that was smuggled out of the faery lands by some humans who wanted to share its beauty and benefits with the world. But the faeries were angry with the humans for stealing it. So they cursed their beloved plant. Don't cut or pluck one of the flowers, it would offend the faery folk. You know how rancorous they are. They steal children from their cribs and swap them with changelings. They lure travellers into the woods with music so they become lost. Elain, love, admire the flowers but don’t touch them.’_
> 
>  

•••••••••

Just old wives’ tales, Elain told herself. People said that so that children wouldn’t take flowers out of their gardens.  
They’d lived near the woods for seven years and never had she seen a fairy that wanted to lure them deeper into the woods. The Treaty forbade them to cross the Wall. The wall was close though. It wouldn’t take long for faeries to cross it and get her...

 _No_. Her father needed the flower and she wouldn’t be scared by some damned folklore. Besides, she was wearing her iron bracelet.

  
In the tiniest meadow imaginable the flowers stood proud and tall, basking in the sunlight that managed to fight its way through the forest roof.  
She strutted towards it, not allowing herself to ponder lest she chicken out of it.

She should’ve paid attention to the circle of mushrooms she entered.

She should’ve paid attention to the tales.

She should’ve wondered how, while all the grass had turned brown, the grass in the ring was still a vibrant green.

_She didn’t._

She pulled the knive from her apron and cut off a stem.  
All the forest sounds seemed to disappear.

‘Well well, why ever would you cut such a pretty flower?’  
Elain stiffened.  
‘Yes dear, I’m talking to ya.’  
She slowly turned around. A man in emerald and silver outlandish clothing was standing in front of her. But it weren’t as much the elaborate clothes that drew her attention, or the head of long copper hair but the fox mask that covered half of his face.  
This had to be some kind of joke.

‘Well, why you be plucking our flowers? Don’t they teach you humans to respect the belongings of your superiors anymore?’  
‘Superiors?’  
The red-haired god smirked, making the brutal scar from his jaw to his brow stand out. ‘So it does have a voice. And it's just as sweet as the face it comes along with. Yes, superiors. Or shall we pretend you didn’t know that foxgloves are flowers stolen from our lands by your envious kind?’  
‘My father is ill. I need it.’  
He sighed, putting a lock of hair behind a pointy ear of his. He was unearthily beautiful.  
‘Doesn’t matter. So, how would ya like to do this?’ His accent slipped through from time to time. Some distinctively old Northern lilt, though he quickly corrected himself.  
‘Do what?’

'You killed something of ours. A life for a life. Do you happen to have any babies I can snatch and swap for changelings?' His sardonical grin was absolutely terrifying. Something about this whole situation seemed endlessly amusing to him.

‘You can’t be serious. Please, my father is terribly ill. I can’t be sorry for wanting to heal him. Is the life a flower worth as much as that of a life of a living being?’  
‘It is if the being in case is a human’, he answered coldly.

‘What, exactly, do you want from me?’  
‘Your life. Or someone else's.’  
‘How? Are you just going to kill me?’  
‘Well, dear, as you can see you walked right into a fairy ring. Perhaps we can dance together naked under the moonlight until you’re so tired you collapse?’  
‘I’d rather not take my clothes off.’  
‘Such a prude. Fine. You can keep them on for the time being.’  
‘I agree to go with you. But please, let me first go and help my father.’  
‘So you want your father to heal, is that everything?’  
‘I can’t provide for my family like Feyre. My hands are pretty useless. I can only grow flowers and if luck is on my side, a random pumpkin. The only thing I was good at was playing intermediary between my two sisters. I’ll be one less mouth to feed.’  
He remained silent and with a flick of his hand a root wrapped around Elain’s leg.

The faerie disappeared. She tugged and pulled but her leg remained put. Leaves rustled somewhere nearby. Elain twisted and turned until she saw her youngest sister Feyre padding through the leaves only a few meters away from her.

  
‘Feyre! Oh thank the gods. Feyre! Over here. Feyre! Feyre? Feyre, where are you going? No, Feyre! Come back. Please! Please. She doesn’t hear me. Oh god. The circle, I must be invisible.’  
Feyre looked over her shoulder and for a few seconds the sisters looked straight into each others  eyes. But the younger one remained unaware of the elder’s impending fate.  
The Fae soundlessly reappeared behind Elain. He watched the girl bundled up in animal skins disappear. ‘Friend of yours?’  
Elain turned around again. She wasn’t going to volunteer any information. The faerie folk were well and truly wicked and she had been a fool to believe otherwise.  
‘If you would be as kind as to sign this?’ He asked. Elain looked at the piece of parchment and quill in his hands.  
She took a deep, resigned breath.  
‘You father is fine now by the way. His heartbeat is back to normal and I fixed that leg of his as well.’  
The fae refused to make eye contact.  
‘How did you know where he lived?’ ‘I tracked your trace back to your house.’  
Elain signed the damned piece of paper.

Before she knew it he had conjured a vial, grasped her chin and dumped the content in her mouth. Within a matter of seconds, nausea overtook her. The fae scooped her into his arms. She remembered smelling the oak and moss scent that clung to his leathers. As her vision started going blurry she couldn’t help but giggle at how perfectly his hair blended with the colours of the leaves.  
‘You look like autumn. Pretty.’


	2. Foxglove part 2

Elain woke up in an unfamiliar room that seemed to be made exclusively out of golds and greens, lit from within by a blazing fireplace. The display of wealth was above that of any human she’d ever met. Though the décor was without a doubt breath-taking, it was something within her that took her breath away as if hit in the stomach. She crawled to the edge of the bed and vomited like she had never before.  
Two fiery hot hands held her hair away from her face.  
‘Easy there, flower picker.’

  
He offered her a glass of water after she was done.  
 ‘I can’t drink that. I’m not as stupid as to ignore advise about _your kind_ twice.’  
‘Just drink it. You’re stuck here anyway. You signed the contract, remember?’  
‘What did you do to me?’ she asked meekly while staring at the ice cubes inside of her glass. So she had indeed been kidnapped from her home. The inevitability of her situation hit her hard yet a sad resignation pooled in her stomach. Without remembering the road there was no way to get back. What did it matter if she got to lay between soft silken sheets, or that she was drinking from a cup with a golden stem? She had no one to share these luxuries with. All she wanted was to see her sisters again, or at least have a proper goodbye.  
While staring at her glass she suddenly noticed something had gone missing; her bracelet.  
 ‘Yeah, I got rid of that’, he clarified after noticing her glance. ‘ I’m already lacking in the ethereal beauty department, so I wouldn’t want to make it worse by having you accidentally burn my skin. I gave you some foxglove to spare you the boring journey. That’s all. These are just the after effects.’

‘Why didn’t you kill me?’  
‘That would be just a wee bit boring. I’ve lived with Andras and Tamlin for centuries and believe me, we’ve covered everything between the three of us. I could do with someone new to amuse me with insights and opinions.’  
‘How old are you?’  
He smirked. ‘Old. Rest. You’ll remain in my room tonight so I can watch over you.’  
She glanced around the room again. It wasn’t exactly the spitting image of the gloomy lair of legends.

‘If you want a dark scary hole underneath a tree where all kinds of fairies dwell in dark hallways illuminated by fairylights, you should go to the Autumn or Night court.’  
‘Where are we then?’  
‘We’re in the Spring Court. Of course, should you like to have the ultimate fairy tale experience, those courts would be more than happy to provide it.’  
Elain shivered.  
‘You would let me go there?’  
The ginger looked at her with his piercing odd pair of eyes. She wondered if his golden eye held some magic to it. She felt completely exposed under his gaze. ‘Should you wish. I have no particular need of you so it would be useless to force you to hang around here unwillingly. You’re only forbidden to go back to the human realm.’

Though the fire was gently crackling Elain felt the need to cover herself. ‘If I am to remain here, could I at least know your name?’  
‘I am Lucien.’  
‘And? No surname?’  
‘Not one that I wish to go by.’ He really wasn’t forthcoming with information.  
‘I’m Elain.’

Lucien left one candle burning so he could sort through his papers on the other side of the room. As much as she wished to remain awake and alert, the warmth of the fire and the gentle sound of his scribbling lulled her to sleep.   
She came out of her slumber when the room was entirely dark. Without moving she tried to look for signs of the red haired fae. He was standing in front of a large window not too far from the bed. He’d already discarded his jacket and was currently undoing his trousers. Without the fear or nausea clouding her mind she could recognise that he was quite handsome. Lucien was a tall man of slender built but with broad shoulders. Her attention travelled downwards. It would be a great deal easier to hate him if he didn’t look half as good As he bent over, his shirt slipped over his hip and she couldn’t help but notice a tattoo in an unknown handwriting.  
  
‘I can hear your breathing, you know? It’s irregular.’  
‘Everyone’s breathing would be quick if their abductor started undressing’, she quickly quipped before her shyness and anxiety got the better of her. She might not be able to defy him in the physical sense of the word for she was neither strong nor smart enough to piece together a plan to escape like her sister Feyre would but these small sharp signs of resistance, for Elain, were enough.  
Lucien chuckled. ‘Leather pants may make my arse look great but they’re not comfortable for sleeping.’  
‘Am I to-‘  
‘Not tonight. You are too weak to be able to fully appreciate it. Now scoot. It’s still my bed.’

 

 

A faerie with tree bark skin woke her up the next day and ushered her into a new outfit. She’d tried washing the previous one but it had torn at the seams, she said. As she was guided around the mansion she was stopped by a tall brown haired High Fae.  
‘Hey, you’re the human girl, right?’  
‘I guess, unless abducting humans is a regular occurrence at this court?’  
He grinned and kissed her hand. ‘I’m Andras, the official scout of the Spring Court.’ The fae was wearing a mask like every other being in this mansion. It had to be some weird fashion. ‘Elain.’  
‘Andras, who are you talking to?’  
A blond haired man came from the same room as Andras. ‘Elain, meet Tamlin. Tamlin, Elain.’  
There could be no mistaking as to who was the leader of the three. Despite his casual clothes, the set of his jaw and towering posture gave him an air of authority the others didn’t possess in the slightest.  
‘Now we don’t wish to disturb you any longer dears, come on Elain.' Alis gently pushed her away from the two leather clad fae.

‘I gotta say I understand him now’, Tamlin exclaimed after she and Alis walked away. Elain strained her ears to hear more. ‘Do you believe she might be the one?’  
Perhaps there was a purpose to her being here after all.

The three men turned out to be easy company and had indeed been very wanting of someone new to talk to. Tamlin was hot headed and tense but he always tried to make her comfortable. Yet his temper and unwavering determination were off-putting.  
_If Feyre ever were to meet him, the two of them would burn down the house. She would never bend to his opinions and commands just because he said so. And Nesta would definitely kill him._  
Andras was dutiful but pleasant and the absolute _worst_ to play board games with. Yet he insisted time and time again they played.  
Lucien was… Harder to grasp. Sometimes he could be as broody as Tamlin. And on other instances he was the life of the party. His witty responses could easily break down Tamlin’s arguments. Snide remarks were given freely whenever someone spoke, except Elain. Somehow he understood that his quick tongue wouldn’t be taken well by Elain’s gentle nature.  
It had been hard at first. How was she to participate in a conversation with three strong minded ancient beings? But they urged her on continuously. Her words couldn’t cause offence nor did they belittle her opinion because of her lack of age and experience. They talked about politics, despite all of them having been involved in the court for over a century and her having only lead a secluded life. Yet she knew about some of the methods and ways from her village and recognised some of the things they talked about in the former business relations and structures from her father’s previous work. She was allowed to interrupt and disagree and they, slowly but surely, coaxed her out of her tendency to disappear into the background as she had done whenever Feyre or Nesta fought.  
  
Despite that they sometimes didn’t speak in private for a whole week, Lucien occasionally came to her when she had nothing to do. He would bring her to a room filled with dresses and shoes just so she could expand her wardrobe. Sometimes they talked about their worlds or discussed a book, she had finished reading. She did like his taste in poetry and literature. But most precious to her were the times he took her riding to show her the kingdom or whenever he opened up to her.  
  
‘I do miss having a hobby. Sometimes I feel like I need something more than just the occasional book to take my mind off of things. Did you used to have a hobby? I realise you have awfully little to keep yourself occupied. I want to make it a comfortable stay for you, Elain.’  
  
‘I used to have a garden. A big one at our old home. My mother created it. She liked walking through it and smelling the flowers. She didn’t garden herself though. But I did after she died. At our next home my garden was small and a bit more practical with the occasional pumpkin and zucchini plant. We couldn’t afford more than that but I liked it. It took my mind off of our problems and gave me a way to feel useful. I planted everything myself. Everyone always thinks they are just useless pretty things. But they are the epitome of hope and humanity. They bud and struggle to survive only to die nevertheless. But they come back. Flowers always come back and during their lifetime bring smiles to the faces of everyone who appreciates the beauty and the preciousness of short lived things.‘  
  
He understood. He perfectly understood. Whenever she talked about her family it became obvious that she felt overlooked by her sisters. He doubted that being the only mortal in Prythian made her feel any better about her own significance. Her life and light had become precious to him against his better judgement. But he wouldn’t pluck her innocence. Getting any closer to her would taint her... and his relationship with Tamlin.  
  
The next day she discovered that a very large patch of grass had been removed underneath her window. Instead, there stood a fountain in the midst of fertile patches of dark soil to plant flowers on. On the edge of the fountain stood fifty boxes. She quickly dressed and went out to discover that he’d collected one hundred seeds of one hundred different plants and flowers. Most she’d never seen before but he’d inserted pictures of them in the boxes. Perhaps, Elain fell a little bit in love with him that day.

 

 

 

That night Elain woke up from an earthquake. Unable to return to bed, she went to her orangery to tend to her fruits and the more exotic flowers.  
‘Unable to sleep?’  
‘I thought I felt an earthquake. I was too distraught to immediately go back to bed.’  
‘Tamlin lost his temper’, Lucien quietly admitted.  
‘About what?’  
‘Doesn’t matter. Elain, are you happy here?’ he asked while stroking the leaf of a hibiscus flower.  
‘As happy as one can be without family.’  
With his hair loose and his shoulders slumping he looked more vulnerable and honest than he’d ever been.  
‘Are you?’ she asked in return.  
‘As happy as one can be with the current state of affairs.’  
‘How can they be solved? How can it become better?’  
‘It can’t. Life has taught me there are always other things to block the way to happiness’  
He sighed and turned to her. ‘I’m glad we could provide at least some measure of comfort to you, Elain. Sometimes I wonder if it was the right thing to follow the rules back when you plucked those flowers.’  
Elain couldn’t say for sure either.  
‘Lucien,’ She called as he turned to leave, ‘you can share your thoughts. Just so you know, I don’t want you to think of yourself as only being a provider of my comfort and me as only a taker. I may not have material goods, but I have a heart and ear I’m willing to share.’  
‘Thank you, Elain.’  
Somehow it only made his expression worse.  
He was gone come morning.

 

  
  
Tamlin organised a party in honour of the successful Tithe. Alis had done her best to dress Elain up. She’d been planning her outfit for days. Alis guaranteed her that her white gossamer dress with embroidered petals of a cherry tree was pretty enough to compete with those of the faerie folk.  
‘Human escorting service, present.’ Andras smiled at her when she opened the door.  
‘Well?’  
‘Looks like our little flower bud has bloomed. You might need a chaperone, pretty one.’  
‘Why, I’m just a human? I doubt anyone would notice me.’  
‘We’re immortal. Not blind.’  
He’d been right about the attention she would draw. Dozens of creatures openly gaped at the exotic rarity of a human being in the Faerie realm and a rare few actually approached her, but they kept their eyes on the towering High Fae behind her back.  
‘All these faeries are so beautiful and different. Why are they interested in me?’  
‘Are any of them appealing to you in the way you would be drawn to a lover?’  
‘Maybe some.’  
‘They feel the exact same way about you. You might consider some of them more beautiful than you, and they might consider your looks more appealing.’  
‘And you? Do the three of you have a preference?’  
‘Tamlin and I have only been with other High Fae, for me it’s been a coincidence that all of my partners happened to have the same looks. Tamlin has a preference. Lucien has none.’  
That made it even harder. Between  all these finely dressed fairies with their long hair, big eyes, light bodies or elegant curves, with their glittering skin and exotic appearance, how could she compare?  It didn’t matter. Lucien had never alluded to sleeping together again after that first night. It had probably just been his big mouth, trying to scare her while she had been unfamiliar with his japes.  
Tamlin danced with her a couple of times. He’d always tried his hardest to spend time with her and find things to connect over where there were none. He could dance though, and Elain enjoyed that. She couldn’t help but feel he was the oddest mix of Feyre’s practicality and survival instinct, Nesta’s bossiness and her own awkwardness, maybe if they had a brother he would be like Tamlin.

‘May I?’ Elain turned around. Lucien offered her his hand. His golden eye, mask and tunic glistened in the warm faerie light. She nodded as quickly as she could and practically leapt inside his arms.  
‘Where were you?’ she asked as they fell into a comfortable rhythm. She could feel the warmth of his skin even through the satin fabric of his shirt. His face had a healthy bronze glow to it as if he’d been in the sun for a couple of weeks. His skin had already been a couple of shades warmer than that of his companions but now the change of his looks made Elain’s stomach knot and coil.  
‘I had to leave, a mission.’  
‘I’m glad you’re back.’  
She had missed him dearly, he had been gone for an entire month.  
‘I had to claim my dance. After all, I have to keep an eye on my exotic flower.’  
‘I’m no flower.’  
‘To me you are.’  
She remembered their talk about her garden. She remembered the distance he kept while the others constantly approached her and suddenly, she wondered, if it had been his choice to remain distant.  
‘I was just about to retire, actually. Could you bring me to my room?’  
Just before she left the room she threw a quick glance at Tamlin to check. His claws were out as he watched them.

‘What do those things on your hip mean?’  
Lucien looked at his trousers, considering the habitual dagger at his hips pretty self-explanatory.  
Elain bit her tongue.  
Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.  
She touched his hip. ‘On your skin. I saw markings there.’  
‘So you _were_ looking that day?’  
She bit her lip.  
‘It’s a reminder how I cost the woman I loved her life.’  
Elain froze. ‘My family killed her. I vowed to myself I would never let someone get between me and those I loved again. I put her name on my skin so they could never take her away from me again.’  
‘How awful. Has it been long?’  
‘Yes. But I like to keep her memory.’  
Elain could barely hear his reply over the sound of her breaking heart. She’d been wrong. Lucien had chosen to keep his distance because he was faithful to his lost love and Tamlin was jealous because she gave attention to another. Whether or not that man was emotionally available or not.  
‘It doesn’t look like Fae language.’ ‘It’s the language of her kind, lesser faeries as my father would say.’  
‘Thanks for bringing me to my room, goodnight Lucien.’

 

 

Faeries appeared to have an awful lot of holidays. Either that or they just used every excuse for a party. Before she knew it the mansion was bustling with preparations for Calanmai. A party, Tamlin and Lucien decided, she had no part in.  
‘Why can’t I go?’  
‘It’s too dangerous. It would be reckless. It’s ancient magic. Dangerous and unpredictable. It calls to the most vile parts of our being.’  
‘Can’t you protect me?’  
‘Guys, it would be perfectly safe if we escorted her. I’ll take her myself. You guys trust me, don’t you?’  
Lucien cocked his head towards Andras. ‘Fine.But she has to leave when Tam starts his ritual.’  
Elain gave Andras a sweet peck on the cheek after she finished dinner and disappeared. The three fae remind behind to go over their to-do list. No one noticed the bent cutlery Lucien left behind once they left the room.

The day of the festivities was soon upon them. Elain could barely contain her excitement. Right before Twilight she left the grounds with Andras. Faeries of all kinds were drinking and dancing to the beat of drums. The sounds reverberated through the hills and seemed to come from everywhere. She took a cup of wine that was offered to her. ‘What’s that over there?’ ‘That’s the cave where the ritual will take place.’  
‘Can I see?’ She hoped that remaining polite would encourage him to allow her more liberties and answers.  
‘No, if you venture any closer Tamlin will be able to smell your scent too much.’  
‘Why are all of you so worried about that?’ ‘I can’t tell. I’m sorry.’ Elain pouted but Andras was called away by a kitchen servant.  
‘Don’t go too far, please’, he begged as he walked away. Elain downed her cup and went to the closest bonfire. A small band of musician was playing, their song fitting in with the hypnotic drums. Elain recognised the harp, whistles, and zither but the other two instruments were things she had never seen before. The fairies around the fire offered her some more wine which she quickly accepted. The wine at the manor had baffled her with its richness but this was the drink of gods. She felt warm and fuzzy and good. Really good. So when they offered her to join them in their dancing Elain didn’t hesitate.  
Here she was, in the faerie realm, dancing to the beat of the drums alongside the stuff of human nightmares.  But she couldn’t be bothered. She felt happy and for once, all worries evaporated from her mind.

‘Elain!’  
She turned around and swallowed. His hair was loose with small braids woven into it and a crown of leaves adorned the top of his head. He was every inch the mystical creature of legends.  
‘Lucien! What are you doing here?’ She skipped to him.  
‘It’s time for you to leave. It is way too close to the ceremony.’  
‘I was just waiting for Andras to return, don’t be mad with me please.’  
He looked over his shoulder. Andras was, indeed, standing within eyesight.  
‘I’ll take you, come on.’

‘So how is this ritual going to unfold?’  
‘Elain…’  
‘ I just want to know because I want to understand why you are concerned.’  
‘Tamlin is going to perform a ritual in a cave not too far away from here.  After the ritual the ancient magic of spring will take possession of his body. He becomes the embodiment of The Hunter and shall look for someone to complete the ritual with. The chance is small but we wouldn’t want it to be you. First of all because we assumed you’d be unwilling. Secondly because you’re a human and as such very fragile. Tamlin won’t be himself so he can’t guarantee to be careful.’  
‘How?’  
‘He’ll look for someone to sleep with. After that, the magic will be released into the world.’  
‘And as for the celebration? What do you and the others do?’ Elain asked as they climbed the stairs.  
‘We… We do exactly the same as Tamlin after he has made his pick. Our own dalliances help the land as well.’  
‘So I’m basically excluded from the biggest orgy of the year?’  
‘Did you want to participate?’ He raised an eyebrow.  
‘Do you?’ She was playing with fire but she didn’t care.

 ‘Why do you want to know?’ He cocked his head and approached her once more.  
She wouldn’t be able to go back on her answer if she did. And doing so would confront her with the inevitable truth. That she was a human and Lucien a High Fae and that no immortal being could ever love a mortal. Her heart was breaking all over again. He was so close now and so awfully beautiful. Just out of her reach, and so he would forever be.

She didn’t have to. He was pressed against her before she knew it. She felt the warmth of his hands through the thin fabric of her dress. But she was the one to cross the final space between their faces as her lips found his. He fumbled behind her to open the door.  
‘I’m going to take my sweet time with you. We still have some hours to kill before Tamlin is done.’  
Elain had meant to participate, honestly she did. But after she made three unsuccessful attempts to take off his trousers she just surrendered to the pleasure he gave her. She certainly remembered the first time. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the anatomy Elain had never bothered to discover on her own. Her memory became a bit blurred after the third orgasm. She didn’t know how much time had passed until Lucien commented that only an hour had gone by. He went to lay beside her breathless form and Elain quickly entwined herself with him.

  
‘This should be illegal. I’m dead’, she panted.  
He chuckled while massaging her scalp.  
‘You understand why you wouldn’t have been able to do this the first night?’  
‘Mhm. But what stopped you all the other nights?’  
Lucien didn’t deign that question worth an answer.  
By  the time the drums picked up speed the itch to be touched had returned to her nether regions and she again set about to undo his pants. This time, he didn’t object. Elain had never seen a man without clothes. However she believed herself to be able to handle the discovery without too much surprise. She didn’t want Lucien to stop because of her lack of experience, let alone a complete lack of knowledge about the male anatomy. She couldn’t guarantee herself to behave in that way so she turned her back to Lucien as she pushed his pants down and did the best thing she could come up with; she closed her eyes and pushed, that way she wouldn't gasp when whatever men hid in their trousers was revealed. A soft warm thing slapped one of the thighs she straddled him with. She continued pulling the pants down however and quickly returned to kissing Lucien. He crawled on top of her. The unfamiliar part of his anatomy now pushing against her lower belly. Her body, however, appeared to know exactly how to respond to it as her hips jerked involuntarily.  
And just like that, the drums stopped.  
‘Elain, look me in the eyes.’  
‘We can just continue with our previous activities if you wish?’  
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know the conventions in the human realm but I know there are some girls here who wish to preserve-'  
‘Please continue’  
Buried within her, he was completely hers. She could wrap her arms and legs around him, was allowed to kiss him as much as she pleased and could leave her marks all over him. For a limited amount of time she could pretend he was hers. She scratched at his skin and bit his neck like a wild cat and cherished the sight of his marked skin when she got a chance to look at what had inflicted. But she knew that with the speed of his healing, he would look as unmarred as ever in a couple of hours. But for now she let herself dream as he covered her with the most ardent of kisses and most passionate of touches.  
And when a light erupted from them and sparkles floated to the ceiling, she liked to imagine it wasn’t just a part of the ancient magic but a genuine spark between the two of them. And afterwards, when he held her, she allowed herself to imagine every day being like this before she gave herself a reality check.

‘Do- do you love her still?’ she asked while playing with his hair.  
‘Not in the way I used to’, he replied, immediately catching on to her meaning.  
‘Why?’  
‘Because I found my mate.’  
‘Whatever that means.’  
‘She’s the one the Mother destined me to be with.’  
Just when she didn’t think he could break her heart any farther, he did. He had a mate. A destined love. No wonder he took no interest in her until she practically offered to sleep with him. She couldn’t resent him though. He’d given her the honesty she wanted. He’d opened up his heart to her and if she answered it with bitterness she had no doubt he would close it again.  
‘Oh.’  
‘I’m a bit wary about it. The things I love have a tendency to be taken from me.’  
‘Don’t be afraid to love, a life without love is empty. Even if it isn’t everlasting and you end up losing her again, some things are worth the heartache.’  
Like losing your family to gain another.  
Lucien was gone come morning.

 

 

 

To say lunch was awkward the next day was an understatement. She felt as though everyone who looked at her knew what had transpired. Tamlin was in a particularly bad mood and oozed with magic. The iron stench of it almost made it impossible for Elain to swallow her food.  
‘Lucien, I want you to travel to the Summer Court. The Summer Solstice is only a couple of months away and I want to know the practicalities.’  
‘It’ll take me weeks to get there and back again. You’re able to do it in a day.’  
There was no arguing with Tamlin however.  
Elain tried approaching Lucien in the hallways but he rebuked her.  
‘I thought-‘  
‘Elain. I need to prepare for the journey.’  
‘But-‘  
He turned away from her.  
‘I enjoyed last night’, she admitted to his back as she pressed her lips against his neck.  
‘Elain, I can’t do this.’  
A can’t was infinitely better than a won’t, so Elain took it. Despite the fact that it still confused Elain that Lucien wanted to do certain things with her while the name of his ex was carved onto his skin and a soulmate was out there somewhere.

When Elain was tending to her roses that evening, Tamlin came to her. He sat down on the fountain and patted atthe space next to him. He’d switched back from alpha male to awkward boy. She sighed and went to sit with him.  
‘Elain,for the past couple of months all of us have tried making you as comfortable as possible. However I believe it can’t have slipped your notion that I have given you an exceptional amount of attention. If that has made you feel awkward, please say so. I know I’m not the most observant person but sometimes I feel as though things are awkward between us. I’m sorry, I don’t really get hints so I have to ask bluntly.’  
‘It has made me feel awkward but only because you try to make our relationship something it isn’t. I like you Tamlin, as one might a brother or a friend. Your hints and intentions were clear but I have never had those kinds of feelings for you and we would be lying to ourselves if we didn’t acknowledge how different we are. It doesn’t feel natural to me to see you as a suitor.’

‘Honestly, I feel the same way. I tried to love you and I really wanted things to work out between us.  You’re an attractive girl Elain, and you’re great at tempering me with your kind words but we don’t have anything in common.’  
‘I agree.’  
A weight fell of her shoulders. She knew he wasn’t telling her everything but it was enough for now.

Three weeks later, Lucien materialized beside her in her garden.  
‘Hey stranger.’  
He looked tired. ‘How have you been doing?’  
‘Good. Now come with me if you please, since you’ve been gone a new perch has flowered.’  
She took his hand and lead him to a perch full of golden, orange and red flowers. It didn’t slip his notion that she’d found flowers that perfectly matched his hair colour and the colour of his eyes, both the real and the fake one.  
‘Yet another gorgeous addition to the garden. I’ll have to start making new perches if you continue in this fashion.’  
Lucien bent down to look at them. They were Autumn Court flowers, perfectly arranged so the colours blended in the most gorgeous way possible.  
‘Lucien, did Tamlin ever tell you to stay away from me because he wanted to pursue me?’

  
He turned around. She looked so at home in the garden in her brightly coloured dress. Her smile was more enchanting than the glow of any High Fae he’d met before.  
‘How would you know about that?’  
‘Tamlin has given up on me, told me so himself.’  
‘Then you’re allowed to go home.’  
‘What?’  
‘You piqued my attention when I met you. But I brought you here so that Tamlin could try to seduce you.’  
‘I don’t understand.’  
‘Tamlin is cursed. He needs love to break the spell’, Lucien blurted.  
‘But- the foxglove?’  
Lucien snapped his fingers, making the contract appear between them.  
‘I can break the contract.’  
The crown of foxglove Elain had braided while Lucien had been admiring the autumn flowers slipped through her fingers. Just like that, her whole world was crashing down again. She didn't get here because of some stupid flower, she didn't even get here because he wanted her. She'd only been something that could save his best friend. She had thought there was something between them but apparently it had never been about her. She felt so stupid for thinking she meant something special, especially when all the signals pointed towards Lucien not having feelings for her.  
‘Why are you telling me this?’  
How could she not return to her sisters now that she knew it was possible? She had to.

‘Because I want to give you the choice to be with the people you love- Elain, why are you crying? Don’t cry, please. I’m sorry. I just wanted to give Tamlin a chance.’  
‘I- I-… This court is a mess. Tamlin tries to seduce me but isn’t in love with me. You sleep with me but have a mate you’re in love with and I- I-…. I finally thought I understood the workings of this court and had found my place within its dynamics with a certain amount of happiness but now I’m lost all over again.’  
‘I shouldn’t have told you about the mating thing, that was unfair of me. You’re free to go home Elain, I don’t wish to hold you back. A mating bond doesn’t have to mean anything. Especially since you can’t feel it in the same way as a fae.’  
Her head was spinning but all the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. 

It was Lucien who had been drawn to her but had unwillingly given her up to present Tamlin a chance at breaking the curse.

It had been _her_ Lucien had started to love.

It had been his unrelenting selflessness that had kept them apart and now he’d given all that power to her.

She could return to her family

or

she could remain here with Lucien, Andras and Tamlin and live the life she’d been building for herself.

He’d kept his distance to make the choice as easy on her as possible. He understood better than anyone else how hard it was for her. Her brain screamed for her to choose for her family. Her sense of duty and loyalty almost forced her to choose as such.

But to do so would betray her heart, which begged for her to selfishly choose the broken fae male in front of her.

She couldn’t bring herself to say it though. She knelt at his feet.  
‘But if I want it to?’  
Lucien bent over and gently picked up the garland, placing it on top of her blonde curls.  
‘Then I would say that I would be honoured to have you as a permanent fixture at the mansion. And I am overjoyed I get to keep my life since breaking the contract on my side would result in my death’, he laughed.

‘Yet you would have broken it had I wished it so?’  
‘I’ve had hundreds of years to live, love and experience. I couldn’t live with myself if I stole the life of someone I loved when they have never had that privilege.’

 

 

Though it remained a mystery to Elain and Lucien how a mating bond could happen between a human and a fae, the two lovers accepted that the Mother worked in mysterious ways. Lucien lived up to his promise to make her life as happy and pleasant as possible. No feelings were more similar, no two souls complemented each other better and after a courting period of six months the two accepted their bond completely. Tamlin was more than happy to send his emissary away until the freshness of the bond had carried off and was overjoyed that both of them had found happiness, despite the fact that the clock was still ticking to free his lands of the blight.  
Two years passed by in relative peace. Until one evening, in the heart of winter in the human lands, Tamlin dragged a lanky girl inside of the manor.

‘Is she the one who killed Andras?’  
Tamlin nodded just as Elain twirled downstairs for dinner.  
‘Cauldron boil me’, Lucien mumbled as he recognised the blue eyed girl.  
‘Feyre! What are you doing here?’


	3. Violets

Down in a green and shady bed,

A modest violet grew,

Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,

As if to hide from view.

 

And yet it was a lovely flower,

Its colours bright and fair;

It might have graced a rosy bower,

Instead of hiding there,

 

Yet there it was content to bloom,

In modest tints arrayed;

And there diffused its sweet perfume,

Within the silent shade.

 

Then let me to the valley go,

This pretty flower to see;

That I may also learn to grow

In sweet humility.

-Jane Taylor

For a former son of the Autumn Court and an apparent heir to the Day Court Lucien Vanserra could neither connect with the Autumn Court’s fiery-ness and passion nor with the cool and collected air the Day Court’s inhabitants exuded.

Centuries of mourning his past lover, playing emissary and building an increasingly thicker wall around his heart as the tensions between him and his former liege and friend Tamlin heightened, had left him emotionally exhausted.

‘Lucien, may I come in?’  
He hummed in agreement as he turned another page of his book.  
His mother came in with a graceful weightlessness she possessed ever since leaving Beron.  
‘I’ve heard that your last four sessions with Helion haven’t been successful. Is there something distracting you? Something I can help with perhaps? I know that we haven’t spent much time the last couple of centuries but I really want to make up for that.’

‘It’s nothing you can help with. Magic just hasn’t been my strongest asset. Although a part of that was obviously due to the fact that a part of my magic had been locked off to prevent me from discovering or revealing my parentage.’  
His mother pouted at the obvious stab.  
‘I’ve never really tried to become better at magic before and now it’s as if I have to train a muscle that I’ve never used before.’  


‘That’s not all. You’re lonely here. I can see that. You only know Helion, me and the servants. You haven’t tried to approach anyone else.’  
‘I haven’t been raised to be a High Lord. Of all people inside this castle I’m currently the least equipped to be the heir.’

Lucien had never been an active player in his own life. Because of his weaker magical ability he hadn’t been able to compete for the crown in the Autumn Court. Then his father had ended his love life for him and when he arrived at the Spring Court Tamlin had immediately put him into the position of emissary and every time Lucien didn’t support Tamlin he got punished for it. And now he just had to become the best possible heir for the Day Court? He didn’t even know how to stand his ground should his life depend on it. How could one so damaged and weak ever make for a strong leader?

‘Do you want us to invite Tamlin?’  
‘No! No, a High Lord should remain in his court. That’s what he has emissaries for’, Lucien explained calmly after his outburst.  
‘Wasn’t there anyone else?’  
‘No, last I heard, Andras had left for the human lands in an attempt to find someone to break the curse. He was the only other one, safe for the servants.’  
Because everyone else had left because of Tamlin’s mood swings.

‘If you can’t enjoy yourself and connect with someone within these lands, maybe you should take a break from it all?’  
‘How?’  
‘I’ve heard the human lands are particularly beautiful this time of year.’  
‘What should I do there? They fear us.’  
‘That’s what glamour is for. Nobody knows you and nobody expects anything of you there. Besides, when’s the last time you’ve had a break?’  
Forever.  
‘I’ll think about it.’

His mother left the room and he went back to his book. For the last couple of weeks he’d been dreaming about violets in all imaginable shapes and colours. He’d consulted every book there was to find about flowers in Helion’s private libraries but they all said different things. Since it was impossible for them all to be true, there was no way of finding out what they meant.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. The human lands? It might not be that bad. Glancing around his room, the walls definitely seemed closer than the day before.

The town was lit by thousands of big potted candles and torches. Hundreds of garlands decorated the buildings and hung from dozens of poles around the town square where a big bonfire was burning brightly.  
He seemed to have picked out the right night to visit the human town.  
  
‘Violet garland?’ A brown haired girl offered him a crown of purple violets.  
‘Thanks, I guess?’  
‘Not from around here, sir? I struggle to place your accent.’  
‘I’m just passing through, I’ve been travelling.’  
‘Well, you’ve picked the right time to do so. We’re celebrating the coming of spring, since they’re one of the first flowers to grow, we have them in abundance. And it’s befitting to wear a violet garland on a night of heavy drinking.’  
‘And why is that?’  
‘It is known for preventing dizziness, don’t you know that? And of course, a lot of our girls are coming of age this year so they can use an extra lucky charm to find themselves husbands.’  
‘I guess so. It sure is a lot of expectations for such a frail little flower.’  
‘Never underestimate small delicate things’, she smiled deviously. Another girl appeared and took her by the elbow. The brunette gave him another smile before disappearing into the night.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that he’d dreamt about violets and ended up going to a place where they were in abundance. On a set of wooden tables, wooden cups and bowls stood with strong spirits and wine adorned with flowers and herbs like lavender.  
Was this how humans celebrated spring? It couldn’t be more unlike the debauchery and racy rituals of the Spring Court.

A circle of townspeople had formed around the big fire while doing some kind of folk dance. He kept to himself, nipping from his cup while taking in the lively spirit. Everyone seemed so elated and happy, yet they still wore their winter clothes and their boots were hanging by a thread. They must’ve had quite a heavy winter. Lucien could barely imagine it, he’d spent his entire life in seasonal courts known for their mildness.

As time wore on he noticed that parts and fragments of the dances and melodies seemed familiar. He shortly reminisced Calanmai, though that would be celebrated in May. Perhaps the dance steps and drums went back to a time where fae and mankind celebrated these moments together.  
Snippets of memories and unwanted touches came back to him from the dark corners of his mind.

He blinked again and batted away that train of thoughts. His eyes focussed back on the flames and the shaky hot air surrounding them. Behind the orange and red tongues climbing into the sky and behind the train of dancing people his eye suddenly found a face. He moved away from his spot to get a better look. The fire lit up her golden brown locks and pale face. From a flower crown, trains of tiny buds and blooms trailed and twisted between her long curly hair.  
She was surrounded by a flock of girls, two so similar to her they had to be sisters. She was silent through most of the conversation the girls seemed to be having. Looking up, she found his eye immediately and he could’ve sworn time stood still.

The wind picked up, crawling underneath his clothes and tickling his back. The bonfire crackled, sparks flying between the dancing people who broke apart in laughter. The beating thinned out but Lucien was unaware of the shift in melody. All sounds evaporated except for the beating of his heart, his focus singling the unknown figure out from the crowd. The people who’d participated in the circle dance now took partners from the surrounding groups. One by one her friends disappeared. She was left standing at the edges of the crowd, inconspicuous and happy to only see.

Why was the air surrounding her so vastly different from those around her? And why was he still moving forward to her?  
She averted her eyes and wrapped her shawl a bit tighter.

‘A dance, stranger?’  
The brunette girl from before took his hand with a smile.  
‘I don’t know the moves.’  
‘It’s easy, give it a try.’  
‘You should really find someone else. Your skills would be wasted on me.’  


When he broke free, the big eyed girl was suddenly standing a great deal closer.  
Lucien slowly bent his head, then realising he had no clue how to properly greet people in this world. ‘Miss.’  
‘It’s you.’ She was visibly shook yet inched closer to him.  
‘Excuse me?’  
 ‘I don’t know. Perhaps not yet…Only in dreams.’

  
She was analysing his face, and he suddenly felt afraid. Humans couldn’t look through glamour, but still his heart pounded when the pair of brown eyes took in his russet ones, his unmarred cheeks and the normal ears protruding from between his dark copper hair.

‘I’m sorry’, she blinked and looked down again. ‘I’m Elain, Elain Archeron. Who are you?’  
‘I’m Lucien, Lucien Day.’ He still wasn’t ready to take on Helion’s surname in public. He hoped the odd feeling would disappear one day.

She was looking at him expectantly with a gentle smiling gracing her smooth lips. He felt a desperate need to please her, but it had been a while since he had engaged in polite conversation. He was good at business talk and banter but this was, like everything in his life lately, uncomfortable territory.

‘Your crown’s pretty. Everyone’s wearing one but yours is particularly elaborate. It’s… Nice.’  
Really, you’d think that after 500 years of being sexually active, he’d at least know how to flirt without embarrassing himself. Helion, the old flirt, would’ve had a dozen of pick-up lines ready.

‘Thanks, my fiancé’s sister gave it to me.’  
‘You’re engaged?’ She held up a hand with a beautiful ring. An iron one, of course. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. These humans and their silly superstition.    
‘Yes, ultimately.’  
‘You don’t look that old. Why say ultimately?’  
‘I held off marrying for a long time.’  
She was trying to convey something to him, judging by the begging look in her eyes. Yet he couldn’t fathom why this human girl was reaching out towards him, a stranger. Or rather, his mind didn’t want to understand but inside his mind was whirling.

That pull, that feeling that had made her stand out from the crowd. He knew when he had felt it before; in his dreams of the violets and meadows.  
‘It’s alright, I understand’, she sighed.  
‘I don’t.’  
‘They say violets can heal the broken heart’, her smile was a curious thing. Gentle but amused as well. Somehow she looked content with what she saw, as if a puzzle had been solved.  
‘Do they?’  
She turned to the table on their left and handed him a snowdrop. He took it and carefully put it in his breast pocket.  
‘I’ve been seeing violets for a while.’ It was only fair he would admit to seeing her. Maybe she could give him the answers he was looking for. Though he was still puzzled as to what he was looking for.  
It was definitely worth it when he saw her eyes light up.  
‘For how long?’  
‘For a couple of weeks. But, I’m bad at interpreting dreams.’  
‘Oh, they’re not dreams. They are visions, Lucien.’  
She smiled but her already light frame seemed to retreat into itself. He’d disappointed her with his answer.

‘Visions?’  
She sighed. He couldn’t stop staring at her face, at the way her pink lips pouted in annoyment.  
‘I don’t understand’, she mumbled and turned away from him. She was fiddling with one of the trails of flowers tumbling from the crown around her head.  
‘Elain?’ She looked over her shoulder and walked on, her pace slow enough not to rouse the suspicion of her acquaintances.

‘Elain?’  
He asked again as they dove in between two houses.  
She shook her head.  
‘I don’t understand. I just-don’t. Feyre and Nesta forbade me from ever talking about it- and I can’t. Graysen would dumb me if he ever found out, or declare me mad… I always- I- I’m starting to believe I am going mad.’

He took her chin in his hand.  
‘Talk about what? Talk straight, allow me to understand, please.’  
‘I see things. I always have. It took me a long time to understand. First I had this eerie feeling of déjà-vû  when I saw things happening. But I know now they’re images of what is going to happen. I don’t always understand them since things rarely play out as they do when I first see them. I told my sisters about it and they made me swear never to speak of it in public. It sounds supernatural and that’s a very bad thing ever since the Wall went up. I’ve seen you ever since I first started having these visions and when I saw you tonight and you said you’ve been seeing violets, just like I had, I thought that I’d maybe finally found someone with the same ability. I swear I’m not mad.’

‘I know you’re not.’ Though it baffled him how a human girl could possess the gifts of a seer.  
‘But I don’t understand any of the things I saw. You were bleeding from your eye when I saw you first, and in all others you were scarred. You should watch out that nothing bad will befall you.’  
Her eyes went back to the metal eye hidden beneath his glamour. She still wasn’t telling him everything, but he couldn’t blame her. He’d barely told her anything either. They were strangers.  
‘But you’ve only been seeing these images for a couple of weeks?’

He didn’t know that the set of Day Court gifts he’d been granted included vision. He was missing an important piece of information.

‘I don’t have an answer. I only know you’re not mad. You’re not alone, there are others like you, we call them Seers. However, I’ve never seen things. I never saw the past, the present or the future. I can’t explain to you why I saw the same violets but nothing else.’

‘We? Where?’

The red haired stranger took a step back and she felt almost bound to follow the tug at her heart.  
In this silence between them, neither knew what to say anymore. They weren’t on equal footing.  
Elain had spent her entire youth hoping for this man to come for her. His face was as familiar to her as her own. She’d seen him get hurt, she’d seen him running through a field in fear. She had watched as he mourned surrounded by violets, she’d seen his tears as he and a blond man fought and in the recent couple of years she’d started seeing herself in her visions of him.  
She’d been so certain it was just a way for destiny to introduce her to her possible husband. As the years wore on though, she’d started doubting he’d ever come around and finally she had ended up engaged with Graysen. Nesta wasn’t a fan of Graysen, but she knew he loved her and was able to take care of her while this ghost of a possible suitor _couldn’t_.

But here he was, as handsome as she remembered, yet not at all what she had expected him to be. His face was one not used to happiness and his shoulders were weighed down by something she didn’t yet know. Violets symbolised healing and it was apparent he was not done healing yet.  
She might know his inner world but he didn’t know her. She couldn’t believe that after all these years of waiting he still wasn’t ready now that they finally met.  
  
She didn’t know what to do. The handsome stranger was going to leave sooner rather than later and she was engaged and bound to marry within a year. Yet, yet there had to be a reason she had been getting these visions. There had to be. But what could she do?

His eye flickered a solid gold when a chilling breeze ran through the alley. But it was restored within a second. She blinked a couple of times. It was hours past her normal bedtime. Her fatigue was probably distorting her vision.

‘Elain! Elain? Are you here?’  
She looked over her shoulder towards the larger street.  
‘Please be careful, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.’  
He huffed, a wry smile appearing on his face.  
‘Don’t you worry, sweetheart.’

There was nothing she could do. She had to let him go.

 

 

She never did stop thinking about him though. As her wedding was approaching, she thought of him more than ever.  
She kept turning over everything that had been said, and everything that hadn’t, during their conversation.

He had been seeing the same things she had. He said there was a name for what she was where he came from. And she couldn’t help but think back on the flash of gold she’d seen in the same eye she’d seen him bleed from in her visions.

His red hair haunted her dreams, and sometimes she felt the phantom of his soft hot fingers on her skin. But his face was twisted in agony whenever she envisioned him and she kept waking up to a feeling of impending doom. When she confided to Nesta about the ominous feel her sister blamed it on the impending nuptials.  
‘Elain, if this isn’t what you want you’re allowed to break it off.’  
‘This doesn’t have to do with the wedding. Something is going to happen but I don’t know what.’ Although she didn’t really want the wedding to happen either.

Her mind was taken off of Lucien and the wedding by the sudden reappearance of Feyre, who had apparently become immortal. Nesta spent days on end fretting about the danger of letting their sister and her gang of Illyrians into the manor.  
‘We cannot refuse her, she’s our sister Nesta.’  
Her figure remained still in front of the window, her back turned towards her younger sister.  
‘Playing host to a meeting between the nine queens and Them? Do you know what fate could befall us? We could die Elain. You came to me talking about how something bad was going to happen a couple of weeks ago and now we’re in way over our heads in this magical business. I can’t protect you from these fae and their magic should something go wrong.’

It all went down three days before her wedding. She was spending a quiet night in with Nesta, embroidering towels and handkerchiefs with her and Graysen’s initials when the door was barged open by four frightful creatures and a breath-taking blonde woman. When she woke up she was being dragged through a big cold corridor of stone. The air around her hummed of magic and the stench of it was so strong she could almost taste it.

Big dark doors flew open to reveal her sister and her group of friends held back and bleeding in front of a pale man on a throne. But that wasn’t the first thing she noticed. It was the blond man standing on the side. She knew that man. He’d been in her visions of Lucien. Her visions were blurry and the images rarely sharp, it would have been easy not to remember the pointy ears, however there was no mistaking his face. But if the man she’d seen with Lucien was indeed a High Fae that meant that Lucien…

She didn’t have time to think it over before she was dragged towards a ginormous cauldron. The pounding, which had already been so strong in the corridor, became louder still. The air reverberated with magic. Dizzy and scared as she was, she was absolutely paralyzed . The cauldron was getting closer and closer but everything seemed to happen in slow motion.  
Her ears were shutting down but she could still hear screaming in the distance.  
But it seemed so far.  
So silent.  
The cauldron was loud. She almost felt its presence in her head.

  
_Hello there, sweetling._

She tried to struggle but her limbs had stopped responding.

_Please, don’t let me die._

The darkness and silence had been unlike anything she’d ever witnessed before. She kept on choking for an eternity. Water poured into her lungs as every bone in her body broke in hundreds of pieces. Her skin burned and everything was agony.  
But more than anything she was afraid, so very afraid. And then, a vision.

A figure of fire and sunshine was standing in a hallway. His warmth heated her cold wet body and she felt… Safe. He raised his hand towards her.  She could almost weep of joy. Home.

She gasped for breath as she was poured onto the cold floor. It should have hurt, falling the way she did. Yet she only felt the pain of water in her lungs. She coughed and crawled but kept slipping on the wet floor around her. Looking up, her vision was clouded by tears of pain. Figures were standing some distance away, but none moved.  
She felt awful as her arm slipped away from under her body again. Her eyes struggled to focus on her hand. Why was it looking off? It looked too long, too pale. Graysen’s ring was already slipping from her finger.  
She trembled as she heard a high pitched scream she knew to be her sisters’. She turned only to see Nesta disappear into the cauldron, her hand raised in a fowl gesture.

A muffled scream, a gurgle. She twisted again and saw the bulky bleeding Illyrian claw his way towards the cauldron through a puddle of his own blood.

And then they were whisked away by Mor and hidden within the House of Wind.  
The first couple of weeks she struggled to regain control over her new limbs. But even her upper chamber hadn’t remained safe from the cauldron’s touch. At first, so many things were introduced to her from food to clothes to an information overload on the whole situation with Hybern that she didn’t have any space of mind.  
But as the weeks wore on, the visions she used to have as a human rose in intensity. They appeared with more or less the same intervals but they were so much sharper now. Every detail was clear and she could recollect everything that had happened in them when she woke up from her visions as well. It was silly, she knew, to complain about the extra inches of limbs and the clearer visions when in a hallway not far away from theirs, Cassian was struggling to save his wings and Rhysand who had just lost his mate, had to run an entire court while looking for a way to save his High Lady and the entire human world.

Sometime after Feyre returned to the Night Court, Nesta and her moved into a Velaris townhouse as well. Nesta had been training with Amren and Elain- well, she kept on feeling useless. She didn’t have any political or military insight to help them nor any real power like Nesta or Feyre.  
The only thing she had were these dark visions of battle and blood.  
They worried for her, she could see it in their eyes.  
They thought her frail and weak, too gentle for the war that was coming.

The only one who came close to trying to understand her was Azriel. He was the only one besides Lucien who had ever asked what she meant with the words she said. She felt a strange connection to him but she wasn’t ready to tell Azriel how she was probably a seer, it felt intimate somehow, to tell someone about the conversation she’d had with Lucien.

When Azriel, Cassian, Nesta and her arrived at the House of Wind for a dinner party, they found Rhysand pacing through the room.

‘Hey, what’s up your royal batness?’  
Rhysand looked up from his pondering, obviously not expecting his guests anymore.  
‘The dinner, right! I’ve been a bit preoccupied, a friend of Feyre’s arrived covered in blood and-‘  
‘Arrived where?’  
‘Who?’  
‘A couple of hours ago, at the Court of Nightmares. I brought him here.’  
‘What friend, Rhysand?’ Azriel asked in that low voice of his.  
‘Lucien Vanserra or whatever he now goes by. He’s helped Feyre with her trials under the mountain. The fool had just tried to reason with Tamlin. I knew the High Lord was a tool, but I didn’t think he’d attack someone he’d spent so many centuries with.’  
‘Where are you keeping him?’ Elain asked .  
‘In the same room as Cassian. It’s where we keep all the first aid- hey Elain, where are you going?’

There was no such thing as coincidence.  
She’d seen him get hurt by that tall blond fae time and time again. She’d seen him get hurt so much she wondered which one of her visions had come true this time.  
And then she felt it. The change in her heartbeat, just as it had the day she first laid her eyes upon him. The presence was near, very near. Like a very soft and pleasant version of the cauldron that day when it beckoned her. And then she smelt it. The oddest mix of burnt wood, old books and musk. She hadn’t really noticed when she was human but she instinctively linked it with him.  
The distance immediately became unbearable and she quickly knocked on the door.  
Her sister opened up in confusion.  
‘Elain, what are you doing here?’  
‘Let me see him.’

On the edge of the bed, in a shirt so transparent she could see the bandages around his torso and arms, the copper haired fae of her dreams sat. Sunshine and fire emanated from him as a natural extension of his body as she stumbled over the threshold. A soft glamour lay over his face.

What could she say? Would their encounters always be this awkward?

‘Well, it’s obvious I wasn’t careful enough,’ he remarked with an amused huff.  
The tiniest of laughs left her lungs.  
‘No. Have you ever even tried? I heard you helped my sister Beneath The Mountain. Sounds like a foolproof way to stay out of harm’s way.’  
And she’d seen it too. Although she hadn’t been able to place those visions until Rhysand had told them a couple of minutes ago. Feyre and Rhysand had never talked about what had happened there before. But now she knew that the images she’d seen of Feyre surrounded by monsters and of Lucien being tortured originated from their time spent there.

‘I’m sorry to have worried you, Elain. I remembered her from the night we met,’ he said while nodding at Feyre, ‘Thought you might’ve wanted your sister back alive.’

‘I’m sorry, you two know each other?’  
‘We’ve met’, Elain explained silently.  
‘Once upon a vision, he smiled.

Confusion clouded Feyre’s face but Elain practically jumped at the confession. Back then it had become clear that though she had been seeing him for years, he hadn’t seen her yet but now- now…

Everything was hot and tense and strange and exiting. All thoughts stopped and moving became near impossible. The thudding of her heart was deafening and the electric pull she’d felt urging her to get closer when he’d first stepped away from her all those months ago was now back in full force. She could feel it charging from her heart through her veins, reaching out to him.

The glamour broke as he gasped for breath. The shiny glow of his hair disappeared as the blood clots in it became visible, the eye she knew he’d hurt turned a solid gold. A scar appeared tracing from above his eyebrow towards his jawline. But they did nothing to diminish the inhuman beauty now visible to her eye. She had known the eye and scar were there, she’d seen them as a human and as a fae as well.  
And in that instant, she felt something shift deep within her, the missing piece of the puzzle she’d spent years looking for finally clicked.

‘My mate.’  
He reached out to her, his hands a lovely shade of bronze that set off against the pale of his shirt.  
‘Mates’, she breathed. Just like Feyre and Rhysand, connected across any distance.  
‘Elain’, her eyes fluttered shut. She thought she’d never hear his voice again.  
‘Elain.’  
A moan left her lips as she held on tightly.  
One of his hands trailed up her arm and gently tugged until she was sitting next to him. His eye gave a couple of clicks and whirled, zooming in on the gorgeous fae woman sitting next to him. She let her head fall against his neck, soft wind-tousled curls tickling his nostrils.  
She smelt of flowers and sweet perfume, and her lips tracing the skin of his collarbone, were soft and plump.

He’d devoured so many books looking for answers. He’d spent so many nights dreaming. Yet, when the realisation finally struck him that the images he’d been seeing where shreds of the visions and life of his mate, he was whisked away to Under The Mountain by Amarantha’s cronies. And then there was Feyre, who at first glance looked so much like her sister it almost physically hurt him to look at her.  
For the first time in centuries, he’d felt like he had a purpose and something to care about but he had been robbed of the opportunity. He comforted himself with the thought that she was safe and happily married in the human realm. He’d abandoned all hope of ever leaving that mountain. Yet he had, thanks to her sister’s incredible bravery.

And when he’d gotten an invitation for the wedding he’d allowed himself to hope that the sweet human girl would come as well. But she hadn’t, and for the better since Tamlin tore everything to shreds when Rhysand helped Feyre escape.  
He’d returned to the Day Court and when the news arrived that Tamlin had kidnapped Feyre’s sisters and thrown them in the cauldron, he’d left within the minute.  
He knew his friend has been growing mad ever since Amarantha first set foot in Prythian, but he had refused to believe his former friend had been so lost he’d turn to Hybern’s kind of evil. It had been a fool’s errand to try and talk some sense into the High Lord of Spring, he should have known that. And when the inevitable happened, he winnowed to the Court of Nightmares. It made no sense, logically, the Day and Dawn Court were way more specialised in spells and healing, but he knew from the fight with Tamlin that the Archeron sisters were here and Feyre had told him he’d always have a friend wherever she would be right before they left Under The Mountain.

And now here he was, and here she was.  
Eternal, both of them.  
As he allowed his fingers to trail up and down her arm, he realised that maybe words weren’t necessary.  
Because when he looked at her, and she looked at him, they knew. They had been beside each other the entire time, sharing their roads to this point. And Elain had undoubtedly seen past this point as well.  
Now was a time to cherish the present in which they could finally hold and behold, this moment that they had been given.  
And although a war was looming on the horizon, they could finally get to know each other.

FIN.

PS: Nesta 100% freaked out when Feyre told them Elain and Lucien mated right in front of her eyes.  
PPS: It absolutely took both Cassian and Azriel to hold her down and prevent her from going into that room  
PPPS: My two children definitely came into the dining room in time for dinner, trying to act casual but the inner circle jumped right on them.  
PPPPS: Sass queen Lucien had no place in the two encounters he’s had with Elain in this fic but he was definitely in banter mode during that conversation  
PPPPPS: Which is why, as he was roasting Cassian, nobody noticed Elain putting her food on his plate until everybody felt how the mating bond was consumed when Lucien finished his plate.  
PPPPPS: Everybody evacuated in literally no time from the House of Wind while Nesta was demanding explanations.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ☺Violets in dreams: a sign of fortune and a sign that your future spouse will be younger than you  
> ☺John Gerard, a 16th century herbalist named snowdrops Early Blooming Bulbous Violet. I’m really learning stuff while writing this  
> ☺Violets in Victorian floriography are associated with purity, maidenhood and loss of innocence  
> ☺In Grecian myths and legends they were often associated with (early) death but also with resurrection. Obviously, Elain died and was resurrected as a High Fae  
> ☺They’re also associated with tragical figures, like Shakespeare’s Ophelia in Pre-Raphaelite art for example  
> ☺Apparently, a common name for violets is a “call-to-me”.  
> ☺ Violets were linked to early spring and folk dancers. The idea of Elucien meeting during a seasonal celebration in a medieval-esque town was quite an interesting one. I didn’t know which way I was gonna go, in a first version I thought of her being a seer and her seducing him but I felt as if that was too OOC and, influenced by a couple of other fanfics introducing the idea of Elain having had some kind of clairvoyance before, the fic took the form it does now  
> ☺Both Lucien and Elain are background characters who don’t take a lot of decisions for themselves and are quite content letting other people take charge. But they’re so amazing and sweet and deserving of all the goodness that might and should befall them in the ACOTAR novella’s (hopefully starting with ACOFAS) which is why the poem fits them so beautifully


End file.
